


filled my eyes with silly tears

by CadetDru



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: All Love Is Unrequited, Angst, Depression, Ghosts, Ghosts are actually Lonely, Loneliness, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nothing actually gets fixed, Season 1 Martin, Season 4 Martin, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 04, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Time Travel is actually just the Lonely, Time Travelling Ghosts, compliments, season 1 jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:02:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: "Can I take a statement?" Jon asked, reaching for the recorder that had already turned itself on, that the clouded man was still reaching towards.The cloud started to fade. "Are you compelling me to do so, Archivist?""No, I'm sorry," Jon said quickly. "I just...""It's your nature."  The clouded man leaned back again, drinking in Jon with his eyes. "I just want to look at you."Jon's laugh was rough on his own ears. "Whatever you are, I'm sure that there are better sights for you to take in."
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 184





	filled my eyes with silly tears

Jon was working alone in his office. This was his typical mode of working, until the inevitable interruptions. It was late, a fact made known primarily by the absence of outside sounds.He had his door cracked open just in case something happened, not that he would define that something or know what to do if it did.No one would be able to come to his aid. 

Except one.Martin was still there, having just moved in.Martin would come and help Jon with whatever might happen.It was getting quite annoying, how his thoughts kept turning to Martin.Jon didn't need to worry over him.

Martin was more capable than Jon had given him credit for.The poor man was making his own little space in document storage, readying the cot and undoubtedly questioning his life choices.Jon couldn't help but wonder at the path that had brought Martin to this. 

He wasn't expecting to hear Martin's voice from the other chair in his office. "Jon?" Martin said, so softly.It should have been preceded by footsteps and a gentle knock at the door. He shouldn't have been creeping in so silently.It should not have sounded like his heart was breaking.  What was there to hurt him now? He couldn't expect Jon to fix it.

"Martin, I thought you'd turned in for the night," Jon said, harsher than he felt.It wouldn't do for Jon to sound too concerned; he didn't want Martin to think that Jon was still underestimating him.He looked up to the door, but Martin wasn't there.

It was colder in the office than it had been, far damper than there was any reason for it to be. Jon looked around and froze. The man seated in his chair looked like Martin glimpsed through mist.

"Wrong Martin," the misty man said. A recorder clicked on as the stranger leaned forward to brush his fingers through the wood of the desk.He stroked the tape recorder fondly, hand more solid, but didn't turn it off. His hand left a faint trail of condensation. "Hello, whoever listens," he said, addressing the recorder. "I'm not ready for my statement yet."

"Who are you?" Jon said. He wasn't ready for creatures made out of mist.

The illusion of a man looked up. "A ghost from the future.The remnants of Martin Blackwood."

"You're not my Martin," Jon said. The mist, when it was more solid, looked older and sadder than Jon could imagine Martin to be. 

"I recognize that jumper," the misty man said. "I know when this is." He solidified. "It brought out your eyes and you just looked so... I never thought I'd see it again. I never thought I'd see you again."

"And yet, here you are," Jon said, bringing the harshness back to his voice.  Don't let them see your fear, he told himself.

"I'd like it on the record that I am in fact Martin Blackwood. I'm just from the future. I slipped somehow, ended up in your office..."The misty stranger trailed off.He continued to stroke the side of the tape recorder.

"Can you help keep him, keep all of us safe? Can you change anything?" Jon asked, not adding "what is the point of you?"

"I could try to warn you, how to keep everyone safe, but you wouldn't believe me. Even if you did, it wouldn't work.Nothing will work, so I'm not going to try."

"So, what are you here for?" Jon asked, sharp as a knife to cut through the humid air. 

The mist cleared, solidified enough to show the color of the man's skin to show a blush coming across his features. "You.I just wanted to see you."

Jon laughed. "You can't be serious."

"Why not? Time traveling ghosts can be self indulgent. There's little else for us to do."

Jon sighed as he stood and stretched.He walked around to lean against his desk.He was ever so casually blocking the exit of the strange man from the future. If he reached out, he could have touched the cloud just to see if he was solid. "This is indulgent for you?"

"You're dead and gone," the mist said. It was so cold in the office now. "I just wanted to see you again."

Jon tried not to shiver. "What do you see when you look at me?"

"The Archivist, devoid of all scars. My archivist. My...friend."

The pause before he said the word "friend" was caught in Jon's own throat.

"Right now, it's the grey in your hair.I never kept track of how fast it came in.I've always just been in the moment with you.You looked the way that you looked and it overrode past memories. You were only ever you. It's nice, like this.Short hair looks good on you."

"I was thinking of growing it out," Jon said, pulling at one errant lock. 

"I know," the misty man said. "You will.It works, after that kind of in-between phase." He ran a hand through his own insubstantial hair. 

"If you're quite done with the personal commentary--"

"I'm not," the misty man said, sounding cheerier. "I don't think I ever told you, will ever tell you, but the scars really made you look more distinguished. Dashing. Of course, that might just be because I associate them with your trying to be this romantic hero."  


"I shudder to think what qualifies as romantic in your eyes," Jon said.

The smile the mist gave him was solid enough, if utterly insincere. "More the classic ideal, but feel free to continue sneering if it makes you feel better."

They actually held eye contact for a beat.

"Can I take a statement now?" Jon asked, reaching for the recorder that had already turned itself on, that the clouded man was still reaching towards. "There's clearly a lot of things you want to say after traveling this far."

The cloud started to fade. "Are you compelling me to do so, Archivist?"

Jon didn't know quite what he meant, but it didn't seem to be anything good for the future before his own apparent demise. "No, I'm sorry," Jon said quickly. "I just..."

"It's your nature."The clouded man leaned back again, drinking in Jon with his eyes. "I don't want to talk. There's nothing I can say, really. I just want to look at you."

Jon's laugh was rough on his own ears. "Whatever you are, I'm sure that there are better sights for you to take in."

The clouded man stared up into Jon's eyes. "I must have been thinking about tonight when I slid through time. How your eyes used to look, how it used to be before I became this. I wished that you could come back to me. Instead, I'm getting trapped in my own memories. A statement would just make it worse. You'd have me trapped on your tape, stuck just like this."

"I'm sorry," Jon said, in place of something insightful. 

"It's all just starting. Your Martin, the real Martin, he's in document storage now? I should talk to him."The man braced himself to stand up.

"No," Jon cried out, raising an arm to block the cloud's path.

The man of mist drew back, recoiling from the prospect of Jon's touch. "What's wrong?"

Jon exhaled. "Assuming I believe that you are the ghost of a future Martin Blackwood..."

"Which isn't quite right, not that you believe it anyway."

Jon ignored the accurate statement. "Then you have to know what he's been through. He was gone for two weeks, he was trapped and… the strength, can you imagine?"

"I don't have to imagine," the cloud said, dissolving again.

Jon didn't mind addressing his boast to the mist. "I can't let anything like that happen to him again. If I can keep one more problem from happening to him, then I will. And you don't seem to be... a positive influence."

"How would you stop me?"

"I am right now."

This earned a derisive laugh from a more solid individual. Jon's fingers itched to take notes."Why, Head Archivist Sims, it almost sounds like you have personal feelings for the man."

Jon looked away. "I won't let anything else happen to him."

"Oh, but you will.You won't be able to stop it. None of this can be changed. It's not a choice.None of this is a choice." The strange shadow of a man from the future let out a sigh that seemed to fill the office with a cloud of fog. "Honestly, I just want to sit here and watch you work." 

"Voyeur from beyond the veil?" Jon asked. 

"I've never thought of it like that, but…" He trailed off and shrugged."I haven't died yet, even in my own time.Things are never easy. You have died, though.It seems like it's the same thing, your death for mine."

"I'm sorry," Jon said again.

"I wonder if I could make you a cup of tea."

"I wouldn't drink it," Jon said. "Ghosts from the future are notorious poisoners. You are nothing but a hallucination brought on by hypoglycemia and dehydration." He took off his glasses and scrubbed at his face. "I'll make some tea, offer it to Martin.I can make sure he's alright.It'll be natural.Normal. He'd like that. It's the sort of thing that he does."

"That's extraordinarily suspicious," the misty man said."You're never natural."

"I need to see the real Martin, be sure that he's okay. If someone's going to be complimenting my hair, it needs to be him. If my end is coming so soon, I can't spend my present with his future."

"I wish you meant it," the misty man said. "I wish I could tell myself that it'll be different, that you might love him." The cloud was no longer man-shaped, just a diffuse mist around the visitor's chair. It moved through the desk and enveloped Jon. It would have been a hug if the initiator wasn't dissolving into Jon's skin. In a moment, it was gone. 

Jon went through the papers on his desk to make sure that they weren't too damp.Jon looking down at his papers and the tape recorder (still on) but glancing towards the chair."Goodbye," Jon said.He made sure the recorder stopped and took out the tape. 

Jon walked to the breakroom, feeling cold and clammy still.Jon didn't start when he heard, saw, sensed Martin join him in the break room.He was a bit startled when he realized that it was the correct Martin. "I hope you're not still working," Jon chided.

"I'm not, but I know you are," Martin said. "I thought I heard you talking to someone."

Jon did his best to find a lie that wasn't a lie, the truth being too inconvenient. "Reviewing some recordings, some excess chatter." He tapped the recorder, just as the cloudy man had. "Have you seen them just..."

"Switch on?" Martin supplied.Jon nodded."Just once.Was that my voice you had playing? I thought I heard..."

"It sounds close to a statement, but the words weren't quite there.Not sure what you were on about." Jon cleared his throat. "How are you?"

"Settling in." Martin shrugged."Shouldn't you be going home?

"That doesn't sound like me at all," Jon said. "I was going to try and make some tea." He didn't add that he was going to offer some to Martin.Spinning fantasies of ways that he had definitely thought of taking care of Martin weren't helpful.

"That's definitely not like you," Martin laughed. "Let me make the tea."

"You don't have to do that," Jon said. He relied on Martin too much. He had missed Martin while he was out for two weeks, while he was suffering. 

"It's homey, isn't it? Something nice to do, someone nice to enjoy it.I'll bring it down to your office."

"And you don't think I can do it," Jon said. 

Martin stammered, eventually getting out "well."

Jon leaned against the counter, watching Martin make tea and not offering to help. "Do you like this sweater?"

"Hmm?" Martin said, lifting his head but not quite looking at Jon. "Oh, yes, it suits you. Brings out your eyes."

"You didn't...look," Jon said, trying and failing not to be put out. 

Martin rolled his eyes as he focused on the mugs and kettle. "I've seen you today, Jon. I know what you're wearing. I know what your eyes are like. I notice these things.That's… well, it should be part of the job, shouldn't it?"

"It should," Jon agreed. "My office has me feeling a little uneasy at the moment."

Martin did look at him at that, really looked at him to take in his state of alertness. "All the more reason to stop working for the night."

"I think you're right," Jon said. He pulled at his clothes. "I have a dreadful urge to burn this jumper."

"It's nice!" Martin protested. "Don't take your bad day out on a perfectly nice garment."

"Would you like it?" Jon offered, motioning as if to take it off then and there. 

Martin shook his head, waving his hands as if to ward Jon off. "Wrong color, wrong size, wrong style... sorry, Jon, I don't think I'll be able to pull off your clothes with the same...panache."

Jon frowned. "There's an inappropriate joke in there about your pulling off my clothes that doesn't work on a few different levels." He caught the sound of his words after he'd said them.Too much effort to go into it at that moment, but definitely a motivation to go home."Sorry."

"It's alright," Martin said. "Jokes are hard when you're tired." He sounded far too indulgent. 

"I'm not... I don't... you're lovely but it's me," Jon heard himself say. "The last recording kind of got to me." If ghosts of live people weren't proof that he was tired, then he wasn't sure what was.

Martin wasn't listening, or was pretending that he wasn't listening, and Jon found himself loving Martin for it. The compliments of the mist had been enough to shove Jon into a foolish mindset. 

"You should get some sleep," Jon said.He was rapidly pushing down the vague interaction of an overly if ghostly Martin of the future. It was just a hope for easier interactions between himself and Martin, in what was a "spooky" environment.And even that hope didn't mean he was romantically inclined towards Martin. None of it meant anything at all.Nothing strange had happened. Jon just had to remember things the right way around.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, I wept  
> For days  
> Filled my eyes  
> With silly tears  
> Oh, yea  
> But I don't  
> Care no more  
> I don't care if  
> My eyes get sore
> 
> Oh I Wept  
> Song by Free


End file.
